


in love with the law, and all the possibilities therein

by elenathehun



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Marriage of Convenience, Mon Mothma's Unnamed Husband, Multi, Or Is It?, lawfare, rules lawyering for good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenathehun/pseuds/elenathehun
Summary: Wolffe assumes the 104th is just attending another boring awards ceremony for General Koon.  It is a ceremony, and it is for General Koon, but it is not boring, and it doesn't involve an award.It is a helluva way to meet your legal stepmother, however.
Relationships: Plo Koon/Mon Mothma/Mon Mothma's husband
Comments: 13
Kudos: 100
Collections: Marry Plo Challenge





	in love with the law, and all the possibilities therein

**Author's Note:**

> It's still 9:48 PM on 10/31 in Hawai'i, so I'm going to submit this with absolutely no time to spare. I've never written either Mon Mothma, Plo Koon, or Wolffe before, so hopefully, my writing does justice to their characterization. My thanks to [Hiruma_Musouka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiruma_Musouka/pseuds/Hiruma_Musouka) for suggesting a title; this was originally called "lawfare for beginners" in my drafts, which I think we can all admit lacks a little pizzazz.

Chandrila was one of the nicer planets Wolffe had visited over the course of his career with the GAR. It had largely temperate landmasses, warm oceans, inviting beaches and pleasant mountain retreats… at least, that’s what the tourist brochures all said about the planet. Wolffe had dim - maybe even non-existent - hopes that he would actually get to see any of it for himself. For some reason the Senator for Bormea Sector was kicking up a mighty fuss about “honoring the heroes of Brentaal IV”, which meant General Koon and the entire 104th were decamping from their flagship in their dress greys.

“Think we’ll at least get some good grub out of this?” Sinker grumbled, tugging at the neck of his uniform jacket. Wolffe couldn’t really blame him - the thing was damnably itchy and tight. 

“Nah. It’s just going to be little cakes on plates,” Boost replied irritably. “I saw it in a holo-show.”

“Ooh, you saw it in a holo-show, it _must_ be true-”

“Quiet,” Wolffe snapped. The General was approaching, and he was wearing his fanciest robes, the ones with ivory-and-crimson trim. 

“At ease, men,” General Koon said, and he gestured towards the shuttle that would take them down. The rest of the 104st was already on-planet, being ferried from the spaceport to the hall the ceremony was supposed to take place. “We should get going. It wouldn’t do to keep Senator Mothma waiting.”

* * *

“Senator Mothma” turned out to be a red-haired human woman. She was about the same height and age as Wolffe himself - probably mid-twenties then. It took another minute of surreptitious staring for Wolffe to connect the name to an actual face and history, but in due time he remembered. The good senator was wearing a green dress that left her shoulders bare - it looked totally different from the all-white ensembles he’d seen her in previously. They covered her from the neck down, and he wondered if it was some kind of formal senatorial garb she was supposed to wear while performing her duties. Fox was always rambling on about these sorts of details when they got drinks together.

She was _also_ Extremely Pregnant. Or maybe this was just medium pregnancy? Wolffe had no idea, and honestly he didn’t _want_ to know. If he wanted to know this information, he would have requested to be transferred to the medic track. Either way, this probably explained why General Koon had conducted all of his talks with her regarding clone citizenship via holo-transmission, even when they were on Coruscant. Didn’t nat-borns like to stay close to home when they were pregnant? 

Well, it didn’t matter. The clone citizenship act had gone nowhere, just as Wolffe had privately bet, and the best the GAR could hope for was a few lip-service parties like this one. Even here, Wolffe and his brothers were segregated from the natborn - clones on one side of the amphitheater, and everyone else on the other. The treatment made Wolffe angry, but the General had asked him to be here, and who knew - good publicity here and now could be the difference between average and better-than-average requisition fulfillment later. 

Wolffe had also noted the holonews teams scattered throughout the hall as well. Four of them, all of them broadcasting live. It was a little over the top for a pro-forma award ceremony, but it could be a tight election year for the Senator. Bormea was one of the few sectors that actually practiced some kind of direct election for their Republic Senator. At least, that was what General Koon had told them in the briefing before they dropped out of hyperspace.

“Oh, Plo, I’m so glad to see you!” Senator Mothma called out. She was waddling towards them, and Wolffe kept his eyes on her face strictly from the power of not giving a banthashit, _ever_ , about gross natborn stuff. He knew the rest of the Wolfpack wouldn’t be as...polite.

“Don’t say a word,” he hissed to the others, and then General Koon was stepping forward to greet the Senator formally.

“Well, I can hardly miss a party thrown in my honor,” the Kel Dor Jedi chuckled, and the Senator laughed along with him. Well, that was one question answered: they were honoring the General with this ceremony. 

“I’m just glad we were able to organize this on such short notice - but please, introduce me to your men. We still have some time before the officiant arrives.”

In short order, General Koon introduced every member of the Wolfpack to the Senator, saving Wolffe for last.

“And this, Mon, is Commander Wolffe, my local second. I don’t know where I would be without him. Wolffe, this is Mon Mothma. A more indefatigable woman I have never met.” 

Senator Mothma extended her hand to him, and Wolffe shook it. She had a nice firm grip for a politician. Most of the Senators and planetary governors he’d met had the pathetic grips of weaklings.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you in person, Commander Wolffe. Plo has told me so much about you and your brothers on our calls.”

Mon Mothma had a low, raspy voice for a human. It wasn’t what he would have expected from a Senator - but then again, she didn’t often speak on the behalf of her party, did she? It was always General Kenobi’s friends leading the opposition, the Senators from Alderaan or Naboo.

“Yes, ma’am,” Wolffe replied. That was a neutral answer, wasn’t it? He had no idea what General Koon could have said about the 104th to this woman. 

Thankfully, she didn’t expect a more involved response. Senator Mothma smiled at him a final time, directed some ushers to guide the Wolfpack to their assigned seating, and took General Koon by the arm and guided him down the aisle towards the stage of the amphitheater.

At least the Wolfpack had front-row seats to the ceremony. It was good of the General to arrange that; Wolffe really doubted the Senator cared. Wolffe claimed the aisle seat by dint of rank, and sat down to observe the other people on the stage. There was a man already down there, speaking to the Senator in a familiar manner. He was tall and muscular - maybe a few years older than the Senator. Probably her husband, come to think of it, although their curriculum as cadets had always emphasized that one should _never_ make assumptions about that once they left Kamino. He looked familiar too, but unlike the Senator, no name came to mind after a few minutes of staring at him. 

Trying to remember where he’d seen the other man’s face was going to drive him to distraction, so Wolffe put it firmly out of his mind and look at the rest of the crowd. It was a pretty high-class group: everyone was wearing their best, and their best was _expensive_. 

“I think Senator Mothma’s family is pretty big in local politics, Commander,” Boost murmured from his side. “Looks like they and their friends have money to burn.”

“Ain’t that always the way of things?” Sinker said from Boost’s other side. Wolffe couldn’t say much to that. 

* * *

Eventually the officiant that Senator Mothma has mentioned showed up, and Wolffe was proven right about Mon Mothma’s usual white wardrobe being a sign of state, because the woman was wearing a version of the same thing - robes and tabards, all white as freshly-laid snow. Once the officiant arrived, things got started very quickly. General Koon stood in front of the officiant, the senator and the vaguely-familiar man on either side, and then the audience hushed, the holo-cameras started rolling, and the officiant started speaking.

It was the most dull, boring ceremony Wolffe had ever attended. The officiant spent all her time discussing the legal status of General Koon in the both the Republic and Chandrilan legal systems before moving on to both Senator Mothma and the other man. The only thing Wolffe got from this part of his name - Sol Mothma - and that he was indeed Senator Mothma’s husband.

Maybe Wolffe had seen him at one of the Senatorial shindigs General Wolffe had dragged him to? No, that didn’t seem right…

After fifteen interminable minutes of legal blathering, the officiant finally finished...whatever it was she was doing. The tension among the nat-borns ratcheted higher. This obviously meant something to them, and Wolffe wished that General Koon had bothered to explain this ceremony in the briefing. 

The officiant raised her hands and placed them on General Koon’s shoulders. “As we say on this world, from the time before the Third Barsen’thor until today, what is formed by the Force can never be broken, not even by death.”

Well, that was a little ominous. Wolffe would even call it dramatic. The crowd seemed to be eating it up with a spoon. An older woman across the aisle from Wolffe was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, of all things. She smiled at Wolffe weakly when she saw him looking at her, and mouthed something at him. He had no idea what she was trying to say, so he turned his attention back to the General.

Yeah, Chandrila was a strange planet.

“Do you, Mon Mothma of Chandrila, take Plo Koon of Dorin as your husband?”

“I do.”

And do you, Sol Mothma of Chandrila, take Plo Koon of Dorin as your husband?”

“I do.”

Oh no, not again. Wolffe was frozen to his seat, but he could hear his brothers muttering and whispering behind him. This had only happened once before, and General Koon had _promised_ it would never happen again. Wasn’t Chandrila supposed to be a civilized planet?

“And do you, Plo Koon of Dorin, talke Mon Mothma of Chandrila as your wife?”

“I do,” the general replied, nothing but confidence in his tone. Senator Mothma took his right hand in both of hers.

“Do you, Plo Koon of Dorin, also take Sol Mothma of Chandrila as your husband?”

“I do,” General Koon said again, and Mon Mothma’s husband took his left hand in both of his.

“Then I pronounce this marriage legal and valid, having found all parties of sound mind and under no duress!”

At that point, three things happened in rapid succession: Senator Mothma and her husband both lifted one of General Koon’s hands and kissed his palms; both the nat-born and clone spectators went absolutely wild; and Wolffe was pretty sure he experienced an aneurysm.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, and the clamour was still deafening. People were cheering, and clapping, and coming up to offering their congratulations to the happy trio. It was all very happy and nice, and Wolffe seriously thought about taking a leaf from Cody’s book and reading about the marriage traditions of every planet they visited before they made planetfall.

OK. General Koon had gotten married. General Koon had gotten married to a Senator of the Galactic Senate. General Koon had gotten married, and brought the entire 104th along as his family. That explained the segregated seating. That was actually sort of nice, for once. 

Given all the information Wolffe knew, it was likely that General Koon had assented to the marriage, even though as far as Wolffe knew Jedi were not allowed to get married. It wasn’t great, but Wolffe could handle this. He was a commander, and this wasn’t even close to the worst thing he’d ever experienced. It was definitely in the top five strangest days, though.

Wolffe kept telling himself that all through the rest of the rowdy end of the ceremony, through the 104th being escorted by ushers to a dining hall, all the way up to his assigned seat at the head table. Sinker sat with him, probably due to his rank as Sergeant of the Wolfpack - another clue that General Koon had helped plan this thing, or at least provided information to Senator Mothma’s staff. Wolffe only stopped thinking about damage control when the rest of the guests arrived at the table. Wolffe had already seen one of them earlier: it was the weeping woman from across the aisle.

“I’m so glad Plo’s family could join us today,” she said to him as she took her seat, another man next to her. They both looked older, for natborns. Wolffe couldn’t figure out how much older, he was bad at guessing ages. “But forgive me for my rudeness: I am Tanis Mothma, and this is my husband Jobin. You must be Commander Wolffe, and your colleague…?”

“Sergeant Sinker, ma’am.” Sinker just jumped in like he was made for it, and started chatting with the older lady as the rest of the room filled in. Wolffe left him to it while he waited for the general and his new spouses to arrive. Sure enough, the trio of the hour showed up last, entering the hall to more applause and shouted congratulations. They were seated in a trice, with Senator Mothma as the center and her husbands on either side; fortunately, General Koon was next to Wolffe. 

“Thank you for your patience, Commander,” the general said to him quietly. “I’m sure there are other events you would enjoy attending more during your shore leave, but your presence was vitally necessary in this ceremony.” 

“Sir, I think I speak for the entire 104th when I say I wouldn't have missed this for the world.”

General Koon seemed like he would say something in reply to that, but Senator Mothma was standing up, water glass in hand. She tapped the rim, but in truth it wasn’t necessary. She had the sort of presence that drew the eyes whenever she wanted it.

“My dear friends and family, I am so glad you could all be here for this day of joy for myself, Sol, and Plo,” she said. Wolffe noticed the holo-reporters had filed inside the dining hall and were recording even now. It seemed sort of silly to him, but he supposed the marriage of a Sector Senator to a High General was big news.

“When I was a girl, I never thought I would be so fortunate to meet not just one, but two partners for my life’s work. In Sol, I found only joy; with Plo, our joy has more than doubled.”

Her husband - no, _their_ husband - was smiling and nodding from the other side of Senator Mothma. He reached an arm around the back of her chair, and General Koon grasped his hand half-way.

“But this wedding is not just the unification of three into one, but the joining of our families as well. My family, Sol’s family, and Plo’s family. The 104th Battalion is not just my husband’s army, but under Republic law, they are his wards. So it is my pleasure to grant my new husband and his children - no, _our_ children - citizenship on Chandrila, oldest and greatest of the Republic founding members!”

If the uproar after the wedding vows had been a clamor, the noise now was a karking _riot_.

* * *

After everything - the shouting, the cheering, the security people throwing a few choice guests off the property, the toasts, the dancing…

After everything, Wolffe got the story from Mon Mothma. Not the full story - there was still some information she was holding back - but as close to it as possible, given they had literally just met. It turned out that marriage was not formally outlawed by either the Republic or the Jedi Order. It was merely “heavily proscribed by custom”, which sounded like pretty much the same thing to Wolffe, but was apparently different. Either way, General Koon seemed pretty certain that no punishment from the High Council will fall on him.

“And the adoption?” Wolffe asked Senator Mothma, blunt as a hammer. 

“Oh, very legal,” she replied breezily. “The Chancellor refused to overturn the Ruusan Reform Act of 6977 CRC. He assigned every clone originating on Kamino as a ward of the Jedi, and then drafted the entire Order in the Grand Army of the Republic. Technically, all clone cadets are classified as Jedi initiates, and all active-duty clones are classified as Jedi Padawans in Republic systems.”

“That...makes absolutely no sense,” Wolffe said flatly. “But Republic law doesn’t make sense to me at the best of times, given that fact that slavery is outlawed, yet the GAR still exists.”

It was a gamble, saying that to a Senator. But Wolffe wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t test the waters when given the chance.

“Astute of you,” Senator Mothma said, lips curling into a smile. A real smile, a vicious smile. It was a smile that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Wolffe’s own face. “But Chandrilan law is quite clear: when a Jedi marries a Chandrilan citizen, they are automatically granted citizenship as well. Any padawans they are currently teaching are also granted citizenship. I signed the documents as the familial sponsor for every member of the 104th after the ceremony, and the the notary notarized them and sent an electronic copy of the form to the Republic database. Your citizenship status will change in approximately three hours.”

“And what happens then, Senator?”

Senator Mothma shrugged a little. Wolffe noted the weird little marks dotting her her shoulders. Freckles. He was glad the Kaminoans had apparently engineered that trait out of their genetic template, along with mild near-sightedness and hay fever.

“And then, you and your brothers get a citizenship packet from the Chandrilan government, and my lawyers serve Chancellor Palpatine with a lawsuit for the unlawful conscription of Chandrilan citizens.”

It was a nice plan. A little twisty, but that was apparently necessary to navigate the labyrinthine maze of Republic law.

“You know it won’t work, right? The Chancellor and most of the Senate is happy to wage war, as long as their constituents never have to pay the price.”

Senator Mothma looked over at her husband. General Koon and Sol Mothma had taken the 104th shinies - who weren’t that shiny anymore, since they’d all gone through their first battle at bloody Brentaal - and were trying to explain the rules of smashball before dividing into teams. That was where Wolffe had seen Sol’s face before - he was goalie for the Chandrilan national team, which was currently #5 in the rankings. Half of Wolffe's brothers were made for the sport.

“I have to at least try. And frankly, if you and your brothers were made for war, I was trained and molded for the courthouse. Don’t underestimate the skills of me or my people in our favored field of battle - there’s a reason no one wants to go up against a Chandrilan lawyer.”

Wolffe chewed on that for a bit. He didn’t think that was very intimidating, but well...nothing else had worked. There was no reason to let Senator Mothma know that, though.

“I’m not calling you Mom,” he said, changing the subject as abruptly as he dared.

Senator Mothma only threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, Commander Wolffe, I never expected you to.”

She looked him straight in the eye afterwards, and smiled that dangerous smile once again, placing one hand on her belly. “However, you will have a new brother in four months. I was thinking of naming him after my father, but I am open to new suggestions.”

A new brother, huh? Senator Mothma might regret saying that one day.

Or maybe not. After all, she _had_ managed to woo General Koon.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited on 12/1/2020 most spelling & grammar errors.


End file.
